Memories
by scarlet-fever666
Summary: Why was he worrying so much? She had waited so long for him. He had waited even longer for her... Kaidan/Fem!Shep oneshot.


Kaidan tried very hard not to get too jealous when it came to Atalanta Shepard.

He'd been shocked when she'd come to see him in hospital and she'd made it clear that there had been no one else since that horrible day on Horizon. He'd been thrilled when she'd asked him back onto the Normandy. He was sure she'd checked him out on the way in. The first time he went into her new cabin, he'd noticed the photograph of him on her desk. He'd forgotten he'd even given it to her.

Sometimes though, he couldn't help himself. Kasumi had spent hours telling him about the new crew members that had joined while he had been "unfortunately absent" when she came to Shepard's apartment party. Jacob had been particularly handsome, she had mused, and Garrus had said absentmindedly that he had shown some interest in Shepard once. He was proudly showing Jack a sonogram, talking happily about a woman named Brynn while the biotic rolled her eyes and picked her fingernails with a pocket knife. Kaidan knew that there was no threat, but he couldn't really shake the gnawing feeling in his stomach.

It seemed daft, too, to feel so protective of a woman who had the strength of a krogan Reaper hybrid coupled with an emotional capacity to match. Atalanta could kick his ass and make him feel like a king about it afterwards. He was in constant awe of her, yet she told him she felt like the lucky one to have him, and it felt so sincere. Kaidan lost a lot of faith in soulmates when Shepard had been killed. He had it all back and more when he returned to the Normandy.

So when he'd gone up to Shepard's cabin while they were docked at the Citadel after the Horizon mission, to comfort her, and comfort himself too, and EDI had informed him that Shepard and Garrus were busy and not to be disturbed by anyone, and heard the turian laugh through the walls, he felt like somebody had punched a hole through his head with a biotically charged fist. He thought about barging into her room anyway. He'd tried to calm down, tried to think what they could be doing in her personal cabin. Maybe they were planning an attack. Why would they be laughing if they were planning an attack? He'd sat heavily down by the elevator and stared at the cabin door for a while. Maybe if he stared hard enough he could see through it. He didn't really want to do that either.

He was sat there now, just staring at the wall. This was Shepard. She wouldn't. Yes, she and Garrus were close, and they had jokes he didn't understand, something about their favourite spot on the Citadel, and they poked fun at his ineptitude with a sniper rifle sometimes… He shook his head. Shepard wouldn't. He trusted her. Why was he worrying so much? She had waited so long for him. He had waited even longer for her. They were finally making them work, something he had wanted ever since she had stepped onto the Normandy, hair in a bob that perfectly framed her face and those incredible blue eyes that pierced him instantly. He smiled slightly as he thought of when she'd woken up after the beacon that started it all had knocked her out, how she'd been kind to him. He had been expecting a military dressing down from his commander. Instead, he'd got sympathy. He had been so surprised, so intrigued by the human behind the soldier.

The first time he realised just how utterly in love he was, they were lying side by side, on top of her bedcovers, completely naked, waiting to arrive at Ilos. Their hands had been touching slightly.

"You know," she'd said quietly, "I do have a first name."

He'd laughed. She had fixed him with a glare.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he had grinned, rolling over slightly to kiss her bare shoulder. "I just got used to thinking it was Commander."

She had huffed, but the corners of her lips had twitched.

"Kaidan…" She'd shuffled, moving to her side to look him in the eyes. "Look, I want you to use my first name when we're together, ok? Not with everyone else. Just…just with you and me. Right now," she had said, her hand gently stroking his hair, "I don't want to be Shepard, saviour of the universe. I want to be the woman I was before everything went so crazy. "

He'd realised just how much she trusted him in that moment. She was asking so much of him.

"Ok, Atalanta," he had said quietly, and she'd moved to lie on her back again. She had taken hold of his hand, and closed her eyes, a smile spreading across her mouth.

"Bit of a mouthful though," he'd added, and she'd shoved him with her arm, laughing.

He remembered when he'd seen her on Horizon, and she'd hugged him, and he'd hugged this ghost back. This incredible, real spirit. He'd dreamed of seeing her for two years solid, remembering the way her bare stomach had risen and fallen so slowly in the starlight, and that blue he'd never seen anywhere else but in her eyes. She was real again, and she'd come for him.

And then he'd seen the Cerberus symbol on her companion's clothes, and it was like she'd been killed all over again. Atalanta Shepard would never work for Cerberus. Not his Atalanta. He'd spent so long dreaming she'd come back, and when she did, he was so angry that if he'd ever seen her again it would be too soon. And yet, there was nobody else for him. His head wanted her to go, and his heart wanted her to stay.

So he had shut off his heart that day, and tried to live his life so that he wouldn't have to use it. He wrote to her, one night. He'd gotten hideously drunk in his quarters after a disastrous blind date that he'd agreed to before seeing Shepard and that he couldn't get out of, spent an hour writing exactly how he felt, let the spell checker deal with the many, many errors, and sent it. He'd read it the next morning, and had had to admit that it was exactly how he felt sober.

Then everything had fallen apart in the galaxy once more, and he found himself side by side with her again. She'd called him Kaidan straight away outside Earth headquarters before everything shattered on their planet. He had had to work hard to resist calling her Atalanta once more. She had smirked at him slightly, in that endearingly infuriating way she always did, a note of pride in her voice at his promotion. He had realised with a jolt that technically, he outranked the commander. She still had that air of power around her, though. When they'd left Earth, she'd smoothly taken command of the Normandy once more. Her sheer force of will always impressed him.

His memory of some of Mars was a little fuzzy, but he remembered clear as day how he had psyched himself up the entire trip down to confront her. She had called him by his first name again, and it had taken all his power to keep going with the speech he'd planned if they were ever to meet again. She had looked him dead in the eye, and asked her to trust him. It wasn't what he had been expecting, and once more that tiny smile from so long ago flashed in his memory. Losing her for so long, though, had hardened him a little. He had somehow managed to focus on the mission rather than her. He had gotten much better with practice.

He'd had to ask her about Cerberus, though. She'd said she still felt the same way about him, and his insides exploded with a strange mix of joy and overwhelming sadness. There was so much wasted time, and she still could be a plaything of the Illusive Man, and yet, there was Atalanta, telling him she still loved him. She had shoved his arm with a laugh, like she had before, and he'd nearly cried. A plaything of Cerberus would have the memories of that night. Then again, the real Atalanta would know the significance of what she was doing.

After that, he didn't remember much, except a lot of fire and even more pain. Apparently, memory loss was common when biotic implants got rattled too much, and happened with head injuries anyway. He was glad, though, that he hadn't forgotten about their conversation. The doctors had told him she had carried him on her shoulders to get him to the Normandy, had run with him, had come to see him at the first possible opportunity she could. That sounded like his Atalanta.

He'd felt himself letting her in again in the hospital. He looked her in the eye and told her how he felt, and she didn't run. They talked for a long time, the first time, where he'd felt so idiotic lying shirtless next to her. He even managed to tease her a little. Horizon came up. Somehow, they talked about it. Somehow, he told her how he felt, and by some miracle, she accepted it. The second time, when he was about to leave, she had seemed proud of him, becoming a Spectre. She even asked him back, but he couldn't. He had to put the war effort first. It had taken everything not to throw himself at her and return to where he had been the happiest.

Then she turned up again, and he was pointing a gun at her. And he had to make a decision in a split second whether it was her or not. In the back of his mind, there was a tiny, nagging voice, telling him not to trust her, that it was all an act, that he should shoot her before she carried out Cerberus' plan. But another voice, louder, more insistent, begged him to believe her. He had stared at her, and made the decision. Thank God, it paid off. He was so scared afterwards, and she had reassured him. She had made him feel how he used to around her, like he could conquer the world. There was no way he was leaving again.

He had finally got back to the Normandy. He had her to comfort him when the news of his father came through. He felt himself relax around her. He felt comfortable enough to ask about her resurrection without feeling like it would make her angry, without even knowing the answer he wanted from her. They started just hanging out on the Normandy, drinking tea in silence between missions, slowly becoming more comfortable around each other, her making him laugh with terrible jokes.

Returning to the Citadel was perfect. He told her he loved her. Without stuttering, without making jokes, without avoiding it. When she told him she felt the same way, he had wanted to grab the salarian waiter and hug him. They had sat in the artificial sunshine, drinking the terrible shard wine, when she had suddenly looked at him very seriously.

"What?"

"I was just thinking," she said, taking a sip, "you still call me Shepard."

He had closed his eyes, leaning back on his chair.

"Well," he had sighed, "I guess I was still figuring out if it was you."

"And now?" she had asked. He had opened his eyes, watching her watching him, with that intense stare she always had when trying to figure someone out, and taken her hand in his.

"I've known you were Atalanta for a while now, little by little," he had said. "I still think it's a mouthful though."

She had grinned, and he had kissed her very softly.

They became inseparable round the ship after that. He had all but moved into her cabin. Somewhere along the line he fell even more in love than he had been before. He rediscovered her. All the little things she did became his. The way she crinkled her forehead ever so slightly when she was under pressure, but didn't want to say so. The way she completely relaxed when he touched her, tension in her muscles visibly slipping away.

She had cried when Liara had lost her homeworld. She had sobbed into his chest for her friend. She had screamed Kai Leng's name, over and over, as Kaidan kept his arms tightly around her, as she struggled to find something, anything, to damage. He had had to use some of his biotics to keep her close to him, she had raged so much. It had taken her hours to calm down to only crying, sat in Kaidan's crossed legs on the bed, arms wrapped around his neck. He had stroked her hair, quietly whispering in her ear, as she cried herself to sleep, still fully clothed. He had stayed awake all night just to hold her close.

He had so many memories of her. They were all his.

He smiled at the door. There was no way they were doing anything. He realised that now, he trusted her far too much for that.

"EDI, let me in."

"The commander said –"

"I know what the commander said, EDI," Kaidan sighed, standing up wearily, "but let me remind you that I outrank her on this ship."

The door lock flicked to green, and Kaidan pressed it.

The cabinet to Atalanta's model ship collection was open. Atalanta was sat cross legged on the floor, holding her miniature Normandy, and grinning, as Garrus dramatically held the Reaper model aloft.

"Shepard!" he growled, in a terrible impersonation of the Reaper's voice. "You will not defeat the mighty Reapers! We are the harbingers of your genetic destruction!" Atalanta was trying so hard not to laugh she looked as though she was in pain. Garrus swooped the reaper model towards her with a dramatic cry, and she started imitating the Thanix gun, before grabbing the model of the krogan warship next to her and throwing it at the Reaper. Its leg broke off on impact, and she cheered, as Garrus dramatically fell to the floor, catching the warship on the way down. The model's leg bounced off towards the desk.

Kaidan stood in the doorway, completely baffled. Whatever he was expecting, this wasn't it. Atalanta suddenly caught his eye and went bright red, shoving Garrus, who was attempting to imitate the Reaper dying.

Kaidan walked a few steps, took the quarian model from the cabinet, and sat next to her. As he put an arm around her, she leant in, and he began to pretend to divebomb the model on the floor.

Later, they lay on top of the covers, cuddled close together, she suddenly planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I needed that today. I needed…I needed a break."

Kaidan only pulled her closer to him. All those memories of her were so precious. He would not let them be lost.


End file.
